


Is everything made to be broken?

by Quire



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: Angst, Assassination Attempt(s), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Feels, Gen, He also doesn't know how to process emotions, Hospitals, I am not kind to Alex or Henry in this, I apologize for the typos, M/M, Medical accuracy? What medical accuracy, Not Beta Read, Phillip gets a little bit of redemption, Shooting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:47:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27612998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quire/pseuds/Quire
Summary: The hospital’s quiet at night. Alex had always thought that they were constant hubs of energy, a never ending rush of life saving emergencies and procedures. He had definitely been talked into way too much Grey’s Anatomy. In reality, it wasn’t like that at all. Once they had gotten out of the emergency room, everything had calmed down. And here, in a private quarter of the ICU, the only real noise is the beeping of the EKG and the laboured breathing of the boy in the bed.
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz & June Claremont-Diaz, Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Beatrice Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor & Philip Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	Is everything made to be broken?

Alex should’ve expected it. As much as he hated to admit it, his country wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows. It wasn’t always the shiny beacon of hope they always painted it to be. The United States could be downright cruel and unfair. It’s citizens could be violent and hateful. Alex knew that. He had even witnessed it firsthand; had things shouted at him on the campaign trail, had people get too close out in the community. He should have expected this—he did expect this. He did. Alex had just expected it to happen to him. 

The hospital’s quiet at night. Alex had always thought that they were constant hubs of energy, a never ending rush of life saving emergencies and procedures. He had definitely been talked into way too much Grey’s Anatomy. In reality, it wasn’t like that at all. Once they had gotten out of the emergency room, everything had calmed down. And here, in a private quarter of the ICU, the only real noise is the beeping of the EKG and the laboured breathing of the boy in the bed. 

It’s 2:30 in the morning, and Alex is exhausted, and surviving solely on caffeine. He can’ t sleep though, and not just because he’s afraid something will happen the minute he closes his eyes. Alex mentally cannot force himself to shut his eyes, knowing that the minute he does, that night plays out in his dreams in graphic detail. He won’t. 

Alex jumps when his phone rings, and he quickly gets up and moves to the hallway before answering it. He doesn’t want to wake Shaan. He’s spent the last day and a half answering calls from everyone, so he doesn’t even look to see who’s calling as he swipes right on the screen. “Hello?” 

“Alex…” Phillip’s voice filters through the tiny speakers and, for once, it doesn’t make Alex want to punch something. Part of him wonders why it’s Phillip calling and not Bea—Alex wasn’t sure Phillip even had his number—but he pushed it aside. 

He sighs, throwing a quick glance back into the room behind him. Nothing’s changed, everything and everyone is where it was when he left it. Alex decides that, even asleep, Shaan is capable of dealing with whatever might happen while he’s not there. He makes his way over to the chair at the end of the hallway and sits down. “Hey, Phillip…” 

“How’s… How’s he…” Phillip falters. The only other time Alex had even heard even close to this amount of emotion in his voice was when Charlotte and Fredreik were born. “How’s it going?” 

“He got out of surgery a few hours ago. Sorry I didn’t call, I wasn’t really… I couldn’t… timezones…” Alex tries to say, but the emotion in his own voice preventing him from talking effectively. "They uh... they needed to stop. Something went wrong, and they couldn't get the second bullet out... So, he's stable... but they, they have to go back in. Once they give him some time." 

It had been the worst 18 hours of Alex’s life. Sitting in the waiting room, covered in blood until someone could find him some new clothes. Having to wait two hours for someone to show up and keep him sane; Shaan came first and then June got out of her obligation. She left an hour ago though, because Alex insisted at least one of them should get a good night’s sleep. 

There’s a pause on the other end, and Alex can hear Phillip’s shaky exhale. “Okay. Alright… We’re getting on a plane in an hour… We’ll be there in eleven hours.” 

“Just you and Bea?” As much as Alex knows Catherine would want to be on that plane, he doubts the queen of England would be able to leave the country on such short notice. Even for her son. 

“Mum tried, but parliament vetoed the idea,—which is bullshit— and Mazzy agreed to stay home with the kids. So, yes, just Bea and I.” 

Alex rubs a tired hand over his face. “Alright… I’ll uh… I’ll update you if anything changes, yeah?” 

“Thank you, Alex.” 

He hangs up, but he doesn’t go back into the hospital room. Instead, Alex drops his phone into his lap and puts his head into his hands. He can’t… he doesn’t understand how this happened. How twenty-two hours ago, he and Henry were dancing together on the Truman balcony, and now they were here; with Henry clinging to life in a hospital bed. He needs to do something, anything, to take his mind off the fact that this could kill Henry. Alex makes a list. 

Things to be thankful for: 

O **ne:** Henry is alive. He’s in critical condition, and they don’t know if his vitals will stay stable, but he’s alive. Henry took two bullets to the chest and he is still breathing. He’s _alive._

**Two:** The shooters are dead. 

Alex isn’t normally the kind of person who wishes people he hates dead—except for Richards,that man can go burn in hell for all he cares—but, usually, Alex can avoid wishing harm on his enemies. Not this time though. This time, there was a twisted part of him that was happy to know that both shooters were dead within ten seconds of the first bullet being fired. 

**Three:** The doctors here are world class. Alex knows that Henry’s best chance at surviving this is right here in this hospital. 

He jolts out of his thoughts when there’s a hand on his shoulder. Shaan is in front of him with a cup of coffee in each hand, extending one to Alex. 

“Thanks.” Alex’s voice is barely above a whisper, and he’s honestly surprised Shaan can hear him. He takes a sip and forces some more backbone into his voice. “Phillip called earlier. He and Bea are probably going to be here by tomorrow afternoon…” 

Shaan nods. “Will you be coming to the tarmac?” 

“No. I can’t… I don’t want to leave him.” Alex knows that if the situation was reversed, Henry would be right beside him the entire time, possibly to the detriment of his own health. 

Shaan surprises him then, squeezing his shoulder tightly and abandoning all kinds of protocols. “He’s going to be alright, Alex.” 

“How do you know?” He knows that Shaan doesn’t actually know, that he just believes. Alex wants to believe that everything will be fine and that Henry will walk away from this, but he was there. He saw all that blood, Shaan didn’t.

Shaan rakes a hand through his already messy hair, letting out a sigh. “Henry’s a lot stronger than any of us know. He’ll get through this.” 

And Alex wants to believe him. He so desperately does, but—right now, with Henry lying unconscious in a hospital bed—hope is so incredibly dangerous for him. Alex doesn’t want to dwell on it, so he changes the subject. “Isn’t there like some royal protocol part of you that is actively having an aneurysm right now?” 

“It does feel bizarre.” He laughs a little, “Sometimes, I must admit, that I envy the way Zhara gets to address people.” 

Alex nods, a hint of a smile finding its way to his face as well. “Ah, yes, because ‘pain in my ass’ and ‘little shit’ are definitely acceptable in royal life.” 

Shaan snorts and his smile grows a little, but then it’s gone almost as quickly as it came. Alex knows that he’s just as wrecked as Alex is. Though he’d never admit it outloud to anyone, Shaan loves Henry. It’s obvious to anyone who pays close enough attention, or anyone who saw their exchange in the waiting room earlier. 

They finish their coffee together in relative silence after that. Shaan lets him know that Zharah’s waiting for an update—on him too, not just Henry—and he leaves to go call her. How she is awake at almost three in the morning is beyond him, but then Alex supposes that not many of their close circle is getting any sleep tonight. 

He does a mental tally in his head. June is back at the Whitehouse, sleeping. Nora and Pez are both on vacation—not in the same country or on the same vacation—and are desperately trying to catch a flight back. Phillip and Bea are flying over, Catherine is being forced to stay back in England. Alex’s own mother can’t leave home either, but his dad’s hopping on the 9 am morning flight from California. It’s not completely ideal, but it’s the best they can do. 

—

Alex does finally head back into Henry’s individual hospital room. Shaan’s still on the phone with Zara, so Alex takes the opportunity to sit beside Henry’s bed. He pulls the chair right up to the side and gently grabs his boyfriend’s hand, careful not to squeeze too hard and careful to avoid all the wires. 

He can’t even look at Henry, knowing that if he looks at his boyfriend’s too pale face and closed eyes, he’ll break. Instead, Alex looks at Henry’s hand and gently brings it up to his mouth for a kiss. 

“Baby…” his voice is quiet, a lot quieter than normal, but in the hospital room it sounds like a yell. “You gotta get through this, H. You’re so strong, sweetheart, you have to.” 

You have to, he thinks to himself. 

When Alex does drift off to sleep—only because of sheer exhaustion—he’s still sitting beside the bed, Henry’s hand in his. He had thought, stupidly, that if he fell asleep holding Henry’s warm hand, proof that his boyfriend was still alive, the nightmares wouldn’t happen. He was wrong. 

Alex dreams of soft smiles and piercing blue eyes. Henry, holding his hand as they walk into the event hall together. It’s nice; a warm night with stars in the sky and his boyfriend next to him. And then there’s the shots, and the screaming, and the blood… Alex left in the waiting room, dripping with it. Coating his hands, all warm and sticky. 

He wakes up gasping. Jolting out of his chair and nearly hitting the floor. It wakes Shaan up, who’s a lot more graceful than Alex and manages to not fall over. He glances around the room, already looking for danger or a problem. 

“Sorry,” He chokes out, carefully taking a few deep breaths. “Sorry. Nothing’s wrong, it was just a nightmare.” 

His eyes land on Henry, on the heart monitor that’s beeping steadily, on the slow rise and fall of his chest—though it may be inconsistent. It’s only then, with that visual confirmation that Henry is still alive, does Alex’s heart rate go down. 

Shaan nods, looking at Alex from across the room. Alex has spent enough time around politicians to know when someone’s analyzing him. He lets go of the fact that Shaan is watching him as if he’ll fall apart any second. Alex can’t say he blames him, he feels very close to falling apart. 

It’s bright outside, from what Alex can see through the window. The sky is blue and the sun’s beaming down and, honestly, it looks like a nice day. He knows for a fact that the temperature is supposed to be a nice 70 degrees and that there’s a slight breeze blowing, even that it might rain later in the evening. They were supposed to go to the Mall today. That was the plan the two of them had made. 

Henry hadn’t really gotten the chance to really explore Washington yet, even though they’d been dating for almost three years. It had been hectic at the beginning; the outing, then the election, then living in New York, and the birth of Phillip’s first kid. Neither of them ever had the time for Alex to show the capital of The United States of America, but they had had that time today. 

Alex checks his phone, surprised to see that it’s almost eleven. He had been exhausted, sure, but he hadn’t thought he’d be able to get seven hours of sleep. Even more surprising is the fact that he doesn’t have any missed calls. From anyone. Sure, Bea and Phillip are on a plane and can’t really call, but Alex would’ve thought someone else would’ve called. He needs someone to call… There’s only so much he can say to Shaan—who already knows everything in terms of what’s going on—and Alex cannot get lost in his head right now. There’s no one to call though, not right now, so Alex sits in the chair, and he holds Henry’s hand, and he prays to a god he wasn’t sure he still believed in. 

— 

June shows up a few hours later with a fresh change of clothes for Alex, food for both him and Shaan, and a bottle of spray deodorant supposedly for the both of them. When he asks why she brought it, June gives him the answer of _‘Are either of you leaving here at all in the next few days?’_ He relents that she does have a point and thanks her. 

They sit in one of the empty waiting rooms that is part of their little cordoned off area of the hospital. June lets Alex snuggle up into her when they sit next to each other on the hospital’s “so called” couch. She runs her fingers through his hair gently and talks about nothing and everything. For all the grief they give each other, the other sibling is the best way to calm one of them down.

He’s somehow managed to end up with his head in her lap, legs curled up tightly so he fits on the couch. It’s the only time Alex has ever been happy he’s a little shorter than others. June shushes him gently and continues brushing the curls off his forehead. “You need some more sleep.” 

“There was so much blood, June.” He says instead of closing his eyes. Last night—this morning?—had already proved how bad of an idea sleeping was. He shakes his head as much as he is able to in this position. “I can’t… I wish I could forget all that blood…” 

June might understand, but that doesn’t mean she’ll relent. She shifts ever so slightly, and brings her other hand to rub up and down Alex’s arm. It’s always been a surefire way of getting him to sleep, and he hates her for it. 

“C’mon, Alex. I’ll hum the song.” Her voice is almost hopeful. “The song chases away the nightmares, remember?” 

It’s a way their mom used to get them to sleep when they were little. She’d hum a melody, that’s now ingrained into Alex’s and June’s head, until they’d close their eyes. Their mother had promised it warded off nightmares and kept them safe; at four and seven, they had believed it. 

It’s juvenile, and dumb, but the thought makes Alex feel better. He finds himself talking. “Promise?” 

June bends down and lays a kiss in his curls. “Close your eyes.” 

True to her word, June starts humming the song. It does it’s job and lulls Alex to sleep within minutes. For the first time since he got to the hospital, he doesn’t dream.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Are we starting another angsty fic with feels and emotions even though we haven't finished writing our first one? Yes. 
> 
> This has been sitting in my Drive for a while and I wanted to let it see the light of day. We'e gonna aim for six chapters but... Idk. 
> 
> Enjoy


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